It was the most surreal of moments, sitting there, in that diner. Watson’s rough hands were encircling a cup of lukewarm coffee, scowl directed into the dark liquid. The seats were encased in cheap red plastic, squeaking and hissing beneath the exhausted four.

Ryder’s arm was around Jane’s shoulders, the weight of which comforted her somewhat, drawing her back into the present. Her stomach growled, and she savored the feeling guiltily. The men Watson had killed would never feel hunger again.

The silence between the four was almost tangible, a physical force sealing their lips. None dared break it, save for the waitress.

Her pen tapped against the order pad with a rhythmic clicking, bubblegum masticating between her teeth like the overdone cliche that she presented herself as.

“What’ll it be?” she asked, entirely uninterested at the strange mishmash of people before her.

As always, it was Ryder that took the lead. “What’s on the menu?”

The woman shot an appreciative glance at Ryder, ever handsome, even with sleeplessness and hunger blemishing his features. “Well, love, we got bacon and eggs, grits, oatmeal, colcannon-”

“Colcannon,” Jane said, speaking up for the first time in an hour.

The woman nodded, before taking the other’s orders, and striding back to the kitchen. A stray police car, sirens on, blared past the diner. Ryder’s arm clenched around Jane.

“We’re taking a risk even just sitting here,” Watson said. He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing at the taste.

“We’re taking a risk anywhere,” Ryder countered. “My father owns the whole town. There’s nowhere safe.”

Strangely, Watson nodded, agreeing with the younger man. “Owns the police force too. Cut all the good men out, left only the ones in his pocket.”

“Are you really calling yourself a good man?” Ryder challenged.

The tattooed ex-cop glanced up from his coffee, eyebrows raised, but declined to respond.

“At least we’re together,” Victoria said. Her tone was the only one even slightly cheerful amongst the four, despite the situation they were in.

“Quit the act,” Jane muttered. “There’s no need to keep it up. We all know how you really are.”

The same expression of guilt flashed across Victoria’s features. “Jane… please, I don’t wanna fight anymore.”

Jane rested her head against Ryder’s shoulder, ignoring the girl. She far preferred the tense silence from a few moments ago.

A trio of plates clacked against the table, their contents jiggling from the impact. The gum-chewing waitress flashed Ryder a smile before leaving once more. Jane frowned at her retreating back.

“Wow, superman, she’s like twice your age,” Victoria commented.

Ryder chuckled, before stopping himself. He met her eyes, surprised that she'd managed to rouse a laugh from him.

“Gotcha,” Victoria said, smiling.

Their utensils clicked against their plates, the meal seeming to vanish in seconds. All but Jane’s, who found herself staring at the potatoes and cabbage, the smell driving her deeper and deeper in her own mind. And then the tears started falling, a stream of wetness traveling from the corner of her eyelids.

The last time she’d eaten this was when her mother had cooked it for her.

Ryder squeezed her hand, concerned, but it was Victoria that wrapped her arms around Jane, having risen from her seat in seconds.

Jane froze as she always did at unexpected physical contact, all the more so from Victoria.

“I know, I know,” Victoria whispered. “I miss her too.”

Jane’s voice was cracking, but she didn’t care. “You didn’t even know her.”

“But I could tell she cared about you,” Victoria replied.

At last, Jane’s facade of silent apathy cracked, and she hugged Victoria back, the tears flowing freely. She missed the both of them so much, Victoria and her mother, but at least one was still alive. At least she could learn to forgive one of them.

Other diners were starting to take notice, gazing in curiosity at the weeping teenage girl and her tattooed friend. Watson’s scowl was more than enough to turn their eyes away.

And at last, the two friends broke apart, and Victoria returned to her seat, wiping Jane’s tears from her neck. The quiet between them was easier now, their postures relaxing as the plates were cleared away once more.

It was on all their minds, so Jane broached the topic.

“Ryder’s right. We’ll never be safe as long as Jackson’s still looking for us,” she said. “We have to do something.”

“What do you have in mind?” Watson asked, motioning towards the waitress to refill his mug.

“Remember when we took down Beatrice?” Jane leaned forward, her voice quiet.

Victoria nodded.

“She told us about Jackson’s watch. It’s supposedly a master key to his entire operation. We just need to get that to the police.”

“That’s next to impossible,” Ryder said, “he’s been beefing up security at my house, with the election coming up.”

“Every system has a point of failure,” Jane quoted. “We can figure out how to get in and get to that watch.”

“This is dangerous, Jane,” Watson grunted, “it isn’t stealin’ some dumb kids' phone.”

Ryder glared at the ex-cop silently.

“I know. But all the info we had burned up in the fire. This is our last shot,” Jane replied.

Watson and Victoria shared another look, and Jane marveled at how she had never noticed the similarity before. Even that day in the street, where Victoria had run from her father, it should have been obvious.

“Actually…” Victoria began.

“We have your laptop.” Watson drew a bag up from beneath the table.

In wonder, Jane unzipped the bag, and pulled her laptop out. It was scratched and dinged, and one end of the plastic was melted, but it seemed the internal components were still intact.

“How-” Jane began.

“We went in through your window. It was the only spot Jackson’s men weren’t watching, with the curtains and all,” Victoria explained.

Ryder seemed to approve. “Does this mean we don’t even need the watch? Can’t we just take this to the police?”

Watson shook his head, and drained his cup with a disgusted exhale. “No. I know your daddy. Even if we take his whole group down? Doesn’t matter. He’s got connections. Resources. He’ll rebuild himself, and then focus on us even more.”

“Then how are we supposed to get that watch?” Ryder asked.

“That’s why were all here, to figure that out. Four heads is better than one, right?” said Victoria.

Even with the danger of the task before them, Jane felt a warmth in her chest. It was the same feeling she’d had seemingly a life time ago, sitting beneath the bleachers with Victoria. The same warmth she’d felt as Ryder held her close, the stream bubbling around them.

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t alone anymore.

And so she hatched her plan for four, there, in that diner, rain pattering against the windows, coffee steaming in the air.

If only she had known the mistake she was making.